Who would have thought...

Yesterday was one of those days when everything was going like the way you pictured it in your head, albeit with a few minor setbacks. It was a day when your wardrobe was pretty neat, when your hair and your curls were bouncing the way their supposed to. When, except for that crazed pimple in your forehead, your face was glowing the perfect summery blush. A day when you step out in your sunglasses and despite your size, some men would really give you second glances.

It was my day yesterday.

I had too much on my plate but I was finishing everything way ahead of schedule. There was a traffic all the way from Sucat to Lawton and the LRT trains to Edsa were packed with people but I was able to get to Mall Of Asia for another task way before 12 noon.

On top of that, I got my last pay.

I was ecstatic. I was thinking, at least I have something to keep me afloat after I quit my job and enter the unemployed again.

I had a perfect lunch at The French Baker and as a treat to myself, I ordered The Chicken Cordon Bleu, which is kinda pricey for me but what the heck! Like I said, It was my day! It was a tempting dish.

It was a deep fried flattened chicken breast with butter and cheese filling, encrusted in seasoned sourdough bread crumbs in creamy hern sauce (I thought it was pesto) and sided with carrots, squash (??) and 'sayote'. The chicken was sitting on top of something that tastes like mash potato.  

I had rice sprinkled with parsley and a tall glass of four seasons.

I was likewise given a complimentary clam chowder soup which was awesome!

Suffice it to say, I had fun. On my own. Then I have to hurry to get my medical results and finally, submit my pre-employment requirements so that I can start training for Hotels.com on Tuesday. I was happy because despite feeling that something might be wrong with me, I was certified fit to work. So now, I headed to Santa Grove.

There all fell into pieces.

That's where and when I realized the guy sitting next to me in the jeepney stole my purse. That's why even with a less crowded jeep, he was sitting way too close to me for comfort. That's why something was bumping my bag.

I just realized I lost the wallet my best friend gave me, some P2k cash, my ATM card, my heath care cards that I'm planning to use today to get a free OB check up. Practically I lost part of me. I'm not going to say that I lost material stuff, things I can actually get again. But the wallet was from my best friend (and yes, it was a Kenneth Cole Reaction purse!), and for somebody who is currently out of the workforce, P2k is a lot! It was intended partly for groceries and for a needed time to relax before I get into the graveyard shift again.

The question is: why me?? Why all these in a month? I lost my guy, I quit my job because it was anyway slipping through my fingers, I failed the bar, I failed at my assessment of where I'm supposed to be at this time and at my age. All in a month!

The situation is bleak. But I can't even get myself to cry. I wish I'm somewhere else where I can pour my heart out but at the rate of where things are going, I can't even afford to be anywhere else. My outsides look cool but my insides are blue, to quote "Unpretty" by TLC.

I wish there is a way for people to know when a series of unfortunate events would befell on them at a certain time. And don't give me any shit about things turning around for the better. It's a pathetic excuse to keep on hoping for nothing. If you come to think about it, if there is a silver lining in all things bleak, how come that guy sitting at the corner who would go to bed with an empty stomach is still begging for scraps after two or three months of doing the same mindless routine? If things are going to turn around for the better, can i tell him that he will get a house and a lot and lots of food on an actual table after three months of begging? I can't right?

That's why, who would have thought that my perfect day would be one of my worst so far.

Why there should be a Fat Girl in Every Fashion Week...

I am not small, I am not thin. Well, yeah, I used to be, like a decade ago. But for now, I'm a proud owner of this 70 kilogram body trapped in a 4'10" frame.

I used to hide away in baggy clothes and loose materials in those "denial" stages..in those "in-between moments". But I got a good shaking and stirring when I read, watched, and became inspired by the legion of curvy women all over the US and Europe expressing body positive attitudes. I figured 'hey, these women are way bigger than me but they look good, they feel sexy and they love themselves!'. That's when I embraced my love for my plus-size figure and eventually began dressing up according to my size.

This is why I have to be in the Philippine Fashion Week. This is precisely why Oxygen has to select me to become their Correspondent to this momentous event.

Oxygen has my vision of accepting people irregardless of their sizes. I am loving their jackets and I even fit one in a Large size, as opposed to my usual selection of XLs and XXLs. Their items flatter even my most stubborn bulge. Plus, a lot of their items are in black and gray--- my most favorite color (or lack of it!).

Oxygen for me understands the need to recognize the fact that beyond Large sizes, there are also those that comes in XLs and XXLs. True, I am not to saying that I favor obesity or something. I still believe in being healthy. No one is sexy unless he or she has her blood pressure in check. But a lot of our men and women here in the country have little options when it comes to dressing in style. Women would either stick to the usual Tshirts and baggy pants combo or an ensemble of ill-fitting styles that only women in the family way appreciates. I mean, seriously, no curvy girl wants to be asked what trimester she is in and what's her baby gonna be when she's not even pregnant! A lot of times when I want to shop for jeans I end up empty handed after hours of looking for great finds. Ladies jeans usually end up at 32. If you want the bigger sizes, you will have to pay for it. Heck, I even have the impression that no stylish curvy girl is poor because she has to pay extra for each extra fabric in her clothes.

That is why there has to be a fat woman on the Philippine Fashion Week to voice out the concern that designers must acknowledge the existence of this segment of our society. That we too have the right to dress nicely. That we deserve to breathe and feel style the same way that smaller women and men does.